Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch
by mountaineer779
Summary: Harry was a typical teenager, with the typical problems that teenagers face, like friends, and girls, and school, and sports, and magic, and OWL’s, and his developing depression, and…oh yeah, that guy who is constantly trying to kill him.
1. SNAP

Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch  
by: mountaineer779  
  
Chapter One: SNAP  
  
Cornelius Fudge was not happy. Far from it. Cornelius Fudge was downright furious. But wouldn't you be if a 15 year old boy proved that you were drastically incorrect about a rather large terrorist threat to the wizarding world? You see, Mr. Fudge was having many problems. For example, the Minister of Magic was currently watching a security team extinguish a fire caused by several hundred Howlers on his several-hundred-Galleon desk.  
  
Unfortunately for dear Cornelius, several-hundred-Galleon mass of charred wood was the least of his worries. Wizengamot was not pleased with his performance as Minister and was currently conducting an inquiry and then there was that tiny problem of Death Eaters running amuck along with everyone's favorite villain. And then there were the rumors about Sirius Black being innocent - it was just too much for the poor guy. Everyone had to admit, he was pretty close to his breaking point.  
  
As he shooed the security team out of his smoke filled office, Cornelius got a glimpse of himself in the mirror hanging on the raspberry colored walls and he had to admit, it was not a pretty picture. His once prim hair was frazzled and his bowler hat was askew. His robes were singed and covered in ashes and the bags under his eyes looked as though they held enough baggage for a family of four on a camping trip in the Alps.  
  
An owl swooped into the office and dropped a letter promptly upon Cornelius' head shaking him from his self criticism. He sighed; the letter was from his wife:  
  
Dear Cornelius,  
  
I'm afraid I've been a bit dishonest with you, but I can't be with you anymore. I can't take the lies and the pain and the suffering. I'm taking Allie and we're going to stay with my mother for a while. Please don't write.  
  
-Elizabeth  
  
"Great!" the minister screamed in a disarming fashion as he kicked a leather chair over, "Just great. My wife has taken my daughter and left me. Could this day BE anymore trying?!"  
  
As if in a taunting response to his question a violet paper airplane zoomed through the door and Cornelius groaned.  
  
"What now?" he growled at the airplane, yanking it out of the air.  
  
BY ORDER OF THE WIZENGAMOT  
  
Mister Cornelius Fudge is hereby removed from the office of  
Minister of Magic as of 7:37 p.m. on July 30th of the year  
1997 and has precisely 30 minutes to voluntarily vacate the  
premises. If Mister Fudge refuses to do so he will be removed,  
involuntarily and the Wizengamot assures Mister Fudge that he  
will not like the second option of removal.  
  
And that, my friends, is what caused Mister Fudge to snap.  
  
_____________________________________________________  
  
Fudge Dragged Kicking and Screaming from Ministry  
  
Yesterday evening the former Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was removed from his office while throwing a temper tantrum by several Aurors, who were not amused. After an inquiry, Wizengamot decided that Fudge was  
not currently, or has ever been fit to be the Minister of Magic. This removal from office was brought on by many things such as rumors of Sirius  
Black's innocence and the denial of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named return.  
Wizengamot has not released their nominations for the next Minister of Magic, who will hopefully be better at his job. The Acting Minister for the moment is none other than Kingsley Shackelbolt. (For details of Mr. Fudge's ties to giant terrorist groups [provided by the former Elizabeth Fudge] see  
page 9)  
  
Harry Potter never looked forward to getting The Daily Prophetor for that matter, reading it. It was most of the time filled with utter nonsense about himself or Professor Dumbledore. But when the paper arrived with the most glorious headline Harry had ever seen he silently thanked Hermione for making him continue his subscription to the mendacious newspaper.  
  
Harry rose from his bed, chuckling quietly to himself as he walked over to his desk. He was going to send the article to Siri- then Harry remembered. Sirius was gone. It wouldn't matter if he sent the article to him or not. He would never get it. And it wasn't because 'Behind the Veil' was hardly a proper address; it was that Sirius was dead.  
  
You see, Harry Potter had trouble dealing with the death of his god father as any teenager typically would. Because Harry was a typical teenager, with the typical problems that teenagers face, like friends, and girls, and school, and sports, and his aunt and uncle, and magic, and OWL's, and his dead godfather, and his developing depression, and.oh yeah, that guy who is constantly trying to kill him.  
  
OK, so maybe Harry isn't a typical teenager with typical problems. Harry was a wizard. But he wasn't even a typical teen by wizarding standards. Harry Potter was called by some 'savior of the magical community' and by others 'a crackpot' but whatever you call him Harry Potter was famous. Very famous for something he didn't even remember doing, which is rather ironic considering most everyone else remembers him doing it. Harry defeated Lord Voldemort (which most teenagers don't do) and lived to tell about it (which practically no one does). Harry also did the exact opposite-witness Voldemort return to power. And unlike nearly all typical teenagers Harry watched his godfather, Sirius Black die and this caused him the most pain because he felt as though he caused this tragic event.  
  
But unlike most typical teenagers Harry Potter wasn't glad it was his birthday the day that the paper arrived with lovely news. In fact he wasn't angry about it either. He just didn't care. Harry didn't care about much about anything anymore. He never opened his mail; although his mail didn't consist of much, just letters every three days from an Order member and the occasional message from Ron or Hermione. Everyday was the same monotonous routine. Wake up, shower, make breakfast, clean the house, stay as far away from the Dursleys as possible, make dinner, and clean up after dinner, sleep. Not exactly my idea of fun, and it wasn't Harry's either.  
  
Let's face it. Harry Potter was not doing too good. In fact, Harry was about as good as a mouse in a Chinese buffet that was slowly filling with water, and as we can all assume - that's not good at all. He would have run away from the Dursleys but Harry knew that wouldn't do any good. There was always an Order member keeping watch on him, Harry could feel the magical aura that the wizard (or witch, you can't really tell) emitted into the magically-bleak Muggle street.  
  
Harry stumbled despondently down the stairs to make breakfast for the Dursleys but when he arrived in the spotless kitchen he noticed that his estranged family had already eaten and left Harry to clean up the mess. Apparently, Dudley had to get fitted for his quadruple-X Smeltings uniform and the family had gone to London for the day.  
  
Glad to finely be rid of the wretched people he lived with, Harry decided to go on a walk and get a bit of fresh air. He strolled out of the back door (not bothering to lock it, who cared if the Dursleys got robbed?) and began to aimlessly walk up the street a little nervous about being attacked by an angry Order member. He continued in this seemingly nonchalant manner until a he realized a tabby cat was following him with a stern look on it's face.  
  
Harry frowned and bent down to pet the cat but instead of purring rubbing against Harry's ankles - which most cats do - or singing Danny Boy - which most cats never do - the austere cat bit Harry causing him to jump up and leap away from the cat, who did not look amused. The young wizard had half a mind to kick the cat but decided just to scare it away instead. But as he drew up his foot a mirthful voice said, "I would not advise kicking your Transfiguration teacher, Harry."  
  
DISCLAIMER: Think about it, if I owned Harry Potter would I be writing Fan Fiction?  
  
A/N: So what do you think? Review if you feel like it, or don't, whatever. Flames will be used to make a bonfire that will burn down the computers of those flamers. Also I need a beta reader. Anyone interested? Sorry this isn't formatted, (that's part of why I need a beta reader) but my computer is being rather dumb today 


	2. What Has Happened

Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch  
  
By: mountaineer779  
  
Chapter Two: What Has Happened  
  
Harry spun around, wondering which member of the Order was stalking him this time. It was Remus, of course it was Remus. Who else would find kicking his teacher amusing? Well, there was Siri- No, he told himself, don't think about him.  
  
"Hello, Remus." Harry said glumly with a smile as fake as Barbie. As he spoke he heard a faint pop and realized Professor McGonagall was behind him.   
  
"Hey, Harry. How are you?" His former professor said, his happy expression fading from his face, morphing into an expression not unlike that of a father worried about his only son.  
  
"Just fine, thanks."  
  
"Potter, I wouldn't recommend lying again, heaven forbid your nose grow to be several feet long." McGonagall added giving Harry one of her famous 'I-really-don't-like-what-you're-doing-and-you-had-best-stop-unless-you-want-a terribly-long-detention-with-Professor-Snape'.  
  
Remus chuckled a bit and said, "Why don't we go to Mrs. Figg's house and have a little chat?" Remus began to walk down the street motioning for the rest of the group to follow.  
  
After a deadly silent walk down the street, the group reached the house of the elderly Mrs. Figg. McGonagall knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a reply. They found Mrs. Figg standing at the kitchen counter stirring some sort of chocolaty substance in a mixing bowl.   
  
"Hello Remus and Minerva," she said, not bothering to look over her shoulder. Apparently Remus and McGonagall were going to pick him up. "Oh! Harry I didn't realize you'd be coming, hello to you too."  
  
"Hi Mrs. Figg."  
  
"I'm making chocolate cake if you'd like to stay for a while."  
  
"No thank you, Bella," Remus said politely. "We just thought we'd come by and say hello before we take off."  
  
She looked slightly disappointed, but continued to participate of the small talk that followed.   
  
"Remus, you ought to take Harry to collect his things-we can Floo to Grimmauld when you get back."  
  
"All right, come on Harry."  
  
A sullen Harry and a concerned Remus left the house and began the silent walk to the Number 4, Privet Drive. The air was a little…smoky. Almost as if someone was having a barbeque that had gone awry. Harry felt as though something was wrong in the air. It seemed as though Remus had noticed this too, because Harry now had to quicken his pace to keep up with Remus.   
  
As they turned onto Privet Drive, Harry gasped audibly. A small fire was rapidly consuming a yard in front of a house four houses down. It was the Dursley's house.   
  
Springing into action, Remus yanked out his wand and began shooting extinguishing spells. It didn't take long to put the fire out, and closer inspection revealed the exterior walls of the house to just be charred a bit.   
  
"You all right there, Harry? You look a bit pale," A slightly paler Remus asked him.  
  
"I'm fine," Harry said, "just shocked and confused. Why didn't any of the neighbors notice the smoke and - oh my god." Harry had looked down at the yard, and there, etched in the smoking turf was a Dark Mark.  
  
Remus turned even whiter than he was to begin with and his quaking voice replied, "Harry, there's only one thing to do in situations like these."  
  
"And what's that?"  
  
"Run. Run like your life depended on it, well, your life just might depend on it."  
  
And so they ran. Harry felt as though his legs were on fire, but he ran. Ran straight into Mrs. Figg's house. Remus shoved a packet of Floo powder into his hand. Harry quickly threw some on the fire and gasped out 'Grimmauld Place' as he stepped into the fire.  
  
Harry stumbled out of the fire, crashing onto the dining room floor and he quickly scrambled out of the way to avoid a dog pile in front of the fireplace. Remus was the next to appear, closely followed by McGonagall and Mrs. Figg.   
  
"What was that all about?" McGonagall said, looking very rattled.  
  
"Death Eater attack on Privet Drive." Remus answered sullenly.  
  
"Well that explains a lot." Mrs. Figg said as she settled down in a chair, breathing heavily.  
  
They sat for a moment until Harry broke the silence, "Why did we have to get away so fast?"  
  
"Order protocol," came Remus' fast reply. "There were probably a lot of Death Eaters that had been there or were still there and seeing as there were only two of us, we had to get out as fast as possible."  
  
"But what about the Dursleys? And my things?"  
  
"We'll go back later, with the others. But for now, I think we should just spend the night here."  
  
"I'll make dinner," Mrs. Figg offered and moved into the kitchen.  
  
"And I ought to go contact Dumbledore." And with that the Transfiguration teacher left the room.  
  
Remus sighed, surveying Harry in a manner not unlike that of Professor Dumbledore.   
  
"I need to talk to you, Harry. About Sirius and now seems as good a time as any. I know you probably don't want to talk, so just listen. Harry, Sirius loved you. He died protecting you, and there is not one thing you can do about it. He's gone and I miss him and you miss him and Arbella, that's Mrs. Figg to you, misses him and everyone who ever knew him misses him. I think, very deep down, even Snape misses him in his own way."  
  
Harry scoffed at this, but either Remus didn't hear him or he didn't want to. "I know you're upset, we all are. But moping around isn't going to bring him back. The only thing we can do is remember him as he would want to be remembered, a happy, loving, care-free, wonderful man."  
  
"You don't understand, Remus! I caused his death, I'm responsible! You see, if I had worked harder at Occulmancy then I wouldn't have gotten that vision of Sirius in the Department of Mysteries. And if I didn't get that vision then I wouldn't have gone to the Department of Mysteries. And if I wasn't at the Department of Mysteries, risking my neck then Sirius wouldn't have come to the Department of Mysteries and so he would still be alive today!"   
  
At this point Harry was on his feet, practically yelling.  
  
"You don't think I feel responsible?" Remus demanded, his temper flaring. "I knew what he was going through and you know what I did about it? Nothing! I sat idly by and watched him deteriorate. But Harry, I've accepted that what's happened has happened and not amount of brooding is going to change that. And you have to realize this too. I know telling you this probably won't change a thing for you, things like this take time and you're more than welcome to talk all the time you need. Now, why don't I take you up to your room?"  
  
"I know where it is. I slept there last summer with Ron, don't you remember?"  
  
"Of course I do," the former professor said with a sad smile, "but seeing as you are Sirius's only heir, I'm more than sure that he would have wanted you to have his room."  
  
"I….I don't think I can stay there yet." Harry said, all anger of a few minutes before forgotten. "But I am going to go upstairs, I need to think things through."  
  
"OK, let me know if you need anything. Oh and Harry," Remus added, "Happy Birthday."  
  
"Thank you Remus."  
  
A few hours and a nap later, Harry awoke from his stupor and decided to go downstairs and see if anything else had occurred during the day. He found Mrs. Figg and Professor McGonagall in the kitchen, chatting quietly. They greeted him and offered him food, but Harry just declined, he didn't feel much like eating.  
  
"Where did Remus go?" He asked the two women.  
  
"He went to get the evening paper," the professor replied gently.   
  
"He should be back any minute now."   
  
And as if in reply the three heard the door close and rather angry steps in the entry hall.  
  
"You sure you're a Squib, Bella? Because you seem an awful lot like a psychic."  
  
Remus stormed into the kitchen and slammed the evening edition of the London Post onto the kitchen table.   
  
"I'm afraid I have really bad news."  
  
Harry glimpsed the headline, and Remus was right. The news was really bad.  
  
Disclaimer: I own my spoon. That's it. Nothing more. I swear!  
  
A/N: Sorry this took so long. And that it's short. And a cliffhanger. Wow that's a lot of apologies to elaborate on. So let's just say that I groveled at your feet for several hours begging forgiveness. ;-) I PROMISE that chapter three will be up by Saturday of next week. But if you want it by… oh …how about …Wednesday, reviews are very important. Anywho thanks to all of you who DID review:  
  
Aku Soku Zan87  
  
A.M.bookworm247  
  
ears91  
  
PRINCE Ali   
  
I-love-sirus73  
  
EclipseKlutz  
  
Thanks to you all! And I sure would love to add several names to that list *wink wink*. But I suppose if you don't want to review you don't have to. I'll be ok. :'( Just kidding! Well, I'll stop ranting and go to bed now. Goodnight! Or 'Good Morning!' should you be reading this in the earlier hours of the day. Or 'Good Afternoon!' should you be reading this, as the phrase implies, after noon. Well whatever it is, good bye! 


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